


The Flagship of the Royal Fleet

by littlemiss_m



Series: Kinktober 2018 [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (like baby's first intro to something kinky kind of slight), Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Photography, Size Kink, Strength Kink, Titfucking, mentions of ot4 in the background, slight D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 21:06:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16879182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemiss_m/pseuds/littlemiss_m
Summary: After a long week, Gladio surprises Prompto and tries to goad him into getting toppy with him. Whether he succeeds remains to be seen, but at least they both have their fun.





	The Flagship of the Royal Fleet

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober day 9, titfucking and muscle/strength kink.
> 
> This is THE best smut I've ever written and I'm soooo excited to be finally sharing this piece with everyone!! I hope y'all like it as much as I do <3

Prompto heaved his front door open with a great sigh, almost stumbling as his left foot caught against the treshold. Technically, it wasn't that late in the day, but after a full week of Crownsguard training, an extra seminar on a Saturday was the last thing he'd needed; not only was his body sore and short on energy, but his mind was now the same. As much as he loved what he was doing, as much pride and aspirations he now held in his heart, even he had to admit it – sometimes, the training was simply too much.

Kicking off his shoes and leaving his bag by the door, Prompto made his way further into the apartment, determined to get out of his training uniform as soon as possible. While unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, he used the other to push his bedroom door open, at first too distracted to notice anything amiss, but as soon as he lifted his gaze from the floor... Gladio.

”Hi, babe,” the man crooned. ”How 'bout you photograph me like one of your Altissian girls?”

For a very, very brief moment, Prompto could only stare. Gladio was naked as the day he'd been born, sprawled across Prompto's bed, and – did he already mention naked? Because that's what Gladio was. Naked. In Prompto's room. In the middle of a very normal Saturday. Prompto blinked, but Gladio went nowhere, so he backed out and closed the door. In the darker hallway, he took a breath and pressed both his palms against the door. When he reopened it a moment later, Gladio was still there.

” _What are you doing_ ,” Prompto exhaled, finally walking into the room. ”By the Six, Gladio, why are you – why you – what?”

Gladio laughed. ”Babe, I'm naked in your bed,” he said, crooking a finger in Prompto's direction. ”C'mon, Chocobutt, I know you've had a hard week but surely you've got enough brain cells left to figure out what comes next.”

Prompto stared. Shook his head. ”But how'd you get in?” he asked, still hanging near the doorway. ”You don't have a key.”

The expression on Gladio's face made him reconsider the statement before he'd even finished with it. Gladio raised an eyebrow – and Prompto tried to ignore the way it mirrored the knee propped up, or the cock resting soft against Gladio's lower leg – and slid a hand across his abs. Prompto swallowed, a blush rising on his cheeks.

”You sure about that, babe?” Gladio asked. ”Also – if you're not into it, I get it, no big deal, but, like – dude, I'm naked here.”

”You're always naked,” Prompto murmured petulantly, even if there was no denying the heat beginning to simmer in his belly. He kicked at the carpeted floor and rested his hands on his hips. ”But did you actually wanna–”

Gladio fixed him with a hard look. ”Babe. I'm in your bed. Naked. Ready to fuck the lights out of you, or let you fuck me in turn if that's what you're up to today. Either way, you get the deal.”

Prompto huffed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as his arms crossed each other in thought. Now that his brain had actually caught up with the situation – and began to lag behind, even, thanks to the downstairs brain powering on – it was like a switch had been turned, most of his exhaustion leaving him as he began to entertain thoughts of getting close to Gladio. ”Were you serious about those photographs?” he asked eventually, a touch of hesitation in his voice. ”'Cause if you were...”

”Ehh, sure thing, Chocobutt,” Gladio shrugged. ”Just gotta keep 'em safe somewhere, but I think you've got that figured out, eh?”

Flushing even redder, Prompto nodded. A sudden grin bloomed on his face and he traipsed forward, dropping off his uniform shirt on the way. Still dressed in a pair of pants and a tank top, he crawled over Gladio and settled down just below his hips, directly above the deliciously thick cock he'd gotten acquainted with just a few months earlier. This was easily the most adventurous thing he'd ever done with anyone, but if the things Ignis and Gladio hinted at having done between themselves, then... Prompto huffed out a laugh and ground down slightly.

Gladio hummed quietly, a soft smile on his laps, and rested his hands on Prompto's hips, twiddling with his thumbs until he'd worked the dark gray tank top partially free. Prompto grinned when he felt warm fingers brush his skin just above the waistline of his pants, but when Gladio's hands moved towards the tangled knot of the drawstring, he slapped them away. ”Uh-huh,” he sing-songed even as a furious blush heated up his face. ”Hang on.” He leaned forward to snag his camera from his nightstand – which was not where he'd left it – and turned it on on autopilot, a flick of a thumb on the power switch and a twist of his wrist to loosen the lense guard.

”Anything for the photographer,” Gladio spoke in a low rumble while Prompto was still twisted to the side and adjusting the settings. When he was done, he placed the camera atop Gladio's very impressive abs and stripped off his tanktop, tossing it on the floor somewhere.

”So, um,” he murmured, picking up the camera once more and shifting on his seat, hesitating for a moment before lifting the camera up to his chin. Below him, Gladio grinned and stretched languidly.

”How d'you want me, boss?”

The question brought a surge of heat to the bottom of Prompto's stomach and he hunched into himself, biting down on his lip as he lifted the camera another fraction higher. Through the viewfinder, he could see Gladio looking up at him, still leering; Prompto snapped a picture, then drew back to adjust the settings a little more.

”Can you,” he started, raising the camera again. He was hard in his pants, and his stomach was spasming almost painfully, his arousal somehow dirty and titillating. At Gladio's easy nod, he continued, asking the other to fold his arms under his head, which he did.

Licking at his lips, Prompto zoomed in, shifting down to find the perfect angle. Gladio's new position left the muscles of his arms bulging, the round shapes only highlighted by the dim light drifting in from the bedside lamp, and Prompto snapped a quick series of pictures. This time, the settings were finally right, and he pushed his hips forward, a silent plea Gladio ignored with a quirked eyebrow.

”You want something, you gotta tell me, buddy,” he said, thrusting up slightly but refusing further contact. ”Can't follow an order if I don't know what it is, can I?”

Face hot as embers behind the camera, Prompto groaned and ground down, finding delight in the way Gladio's chest heaved under a sudden intake of breath. ”Take me out.”

The order came out stuttery and fumbling, and for a second, Prompto thought Gladio wouldn't follow. Through some act of mercy he did, however, slowly stretching his massive arms towards Prompto's crotch and the knot pulled almost too tight out of habit; he'd only needed to witness a pantless trainee once during training to learn the lesson no-one had ever mentioned out loud.

”Go slow,” Prompto murmured, still focused on Gladio's head and his expression. Inch by inch, he moved the lense further down the muscular body below him, until only Gladio's chin remained in the picture; the shot could have been of anyone if not for the tattoo glowing dark in the dim lightning. Prompto bit back a moan without knowing whether it was from the light touches on his crotch or from the sight before him, and aimed the lense between his legs.

Gladio's hands were massive against Prompto's dick; it was something he'd learned months before, when they'd first stripped down for some hands-on exploration, but the camera lense and the angle were both only highlighting the difference. As Gladio pulled Prompto out of his pants and wrapped a calloused hand around the already erect member, Prompto held onto his breath and continued snapping pictures.

”Did you bring any...” Prompto began, trailing off to release a stuttery breath when Gladio jacked him slowly.

”Any what, babe?”

Almost groaning, Prompto threw his head back and ground his butt down against Gladio's crotch. ”Lube,” he muttered, almost petulant, but he could feel a warm hardness against the curve of his bum and couldn't be bothered to listen to his brain anymore. ”Did you bring any lube, or anything?” He had his own tube of lube in the bathroom, but it was too far away and leaving Gladio was the last thing Prompto wanted to do.

”I've got lube and a bottle of massage oil,” Gladio answered. He rested his palms on Prompto's thighs and kneaded at the flesh, a small smirk playing on his lips. ”What's it gonna be, boss?”

This time, Prompto groaned for real. ”Is the massage oil – is it gonna rot my dick if some gets on?” he asked, relieved to see the minute shake of Gladio's head. ”And can it be used for, uh–”

”Yeah, babe?”

Prompto was sure his face was hot enough to fry an egg on his forehead. If not for the camera in his hands, he would have slapped his palms on his face to hide behind them, but instead he could only hunch his shoulders up as he glowered at Gladio. ”Fucking,” he mumbled, ”can it be used for – penetration.”

Laughing hard enough to jostle Prompto, Gladio slipped his hands up the sides of Prompto's torso until his thumbs rested just below a pair of pectorals that were nothing compared to the ones under Prompto's gaze. ”Sure thing, babe,” he chuckled, in the deep, dark voice that had always done very awful things to Prompto's loins. ”Here.”

Gladio removed his right hand and dug under the pillows, returning with an expensive-looking bottle labeled as a massage oil. Prompto watched it for a moment before nodding, cheeks still flushed hot, and climbing out of the bed to kick off his pants and socks. Standing next to the bed with Gladio still lying down, he couldn't resist laying a hand on himself, sliding up and down his dick with the familiarity of a man well accustomated to playing on his own; at Gladio's ensuing smirk, he flushed even redder and crawled back on, making sure to grind his butt hard against Gladio's dick.

”I wanna fuck your tits,” Prompto murmured, suddenly emboldened. Gladio wiggled his eyebrows and twisted the cork off the bottle.

”Yeah?” he said, setting the cork aside as he poured a good amount of oil on his chest. ”Tell me about it, baby.”

Silent for a moment, Prompto snapped a shot of Gladio smearing the oil across his upper abs. ”Yeah,” he replied, almost distracted, too horny to feel embarrassment anymore. ”I wanna – I wanna fuck your tits, but first I wanna see you play with them.”

Gladio spread the oil in slow, sensual movements, circling down his abs before doubling back to his tits, working from the outer edges of his pectorals and towards the nipples, which he rolled between his fingers. There was a redness spreading down his chest that had nothing to do with the glint of the oil on his skin, but rather the increasing pace of his breaths and the throbbing hardness against Prompto's ass. When he gasped, so did Prompto, quickly snapping a shot of Gladio's face but missing the open mouth just so.

”Pinch them.”

Gladio did, and this time Prompto was ready with the camera. Despite his labored breathing and body already trembling in arousal, he managed the shot, hitting an entire series showing the change in Gladio's expression. Prompto felt ready to come over the knowledge that even if the photographs failed otherwise, there'd still be a slow-mo recap of the subtle widening of Gladio's eyes and the parting of his lips, the tip of a pink tongue poking out as Gladio pulled his nipples taut, stretching dark skin as far as humanly possible.

There was a part of Prompto that wanted to draw this out as long as possible, but try as he might, he couldn't ignore the fatigue he'd been battling all day long. With a mournful sigh, Prompto raised himself up an inch and thrust his dick forward.

”Take me in hand,” he murmured, camera ready. ”Touch me.”

Gladio did as ordered and slid his hands down his torso, cupping Prompto's balls with the first and wrapping the other around a lenght already weeping for more. Prompto gasped and jerked, knowing that the picture he'd snapped would turn out blurry and out of focus, yet he hardly cared. Slowly, taking a shot every two or three seconds, Prompto inched forward until his deck hovered above the cleft between Gladio's tits.

”Is this okay?” he asked, carefully lowering his weight down on sturdy ribs protected by thick muscles, suddenly nervous over the possibility of hurting his boyfriend. Gladio nodded, smiling, and pressed his palms against the outer sides of his breasts, pushing until Prompto felt a shallow crack against the underside of his dick.

”Thought you were gonna fuck my tits.”

The leer on Gladio's face had Prompto blushing even as he gasped over the sensation of hard muscle rubbing on his sensitive cock, and he pushed forward slowly, watching and feeling the glide of his dick against oiled skin. The view through his camera lense was cut off from the rest of the world, somehow, leaving out everything that wasn't Gladio's chest, his hands, Prompto's dick just brushing the eagle's head, and a loud moan tore from Prompto's throat when he realized he'd already left a drop of precome gleaming on the bird's crooked beak. It was blasphemy, probably, an insult against Gladio's honor and blood and name, yet – Prompto found he had little care, too lost in the pleasure of rutting off against a very lovely pair of tits.

”Touch me,” he gasped, fingers trembling so bad he was afraid of dropping the camera, ”just a little.”

Through the lense, Prompto saw Gladio's hands move, the other retreating to twist a nipple while the other reached for Prompto's dick, a wide palm pressing down to smoosh the member down, the remnants of glistening oil making the slide a smooth one when Gladio eventually brought his fingers to the reddened head shiny with precome and smears of oil.

Prompto panted through it all, somehow able to hold himself back and continue taking pictures. Eventually he had no choice but to draw back, however, to slump his butt back on the cradle of Gladio's hipbones, an act that drew a sigh from his lungs and a disappointed moan from Gladio.

For a moment, Prompto sat still, the camera lowered to his chest and his eyes watching Gladio, seeing him whole for the first time in a long while. He panted, trying to catch his breath, trying even harder to think of something unsexy enough to keep him from orgasming right then and there, but the sight of Gladio smirking had him laughing all of sudden.

”I'm gonna fuck you,” Prompto said once the bubbling laughter had died out, then backtracked, ”no, I mean – I'm gonna fuck myself on you.”

Gladio quirked an eyebrow. ”Not gonna complain at all, babe,” he grinned. ”What's next, boss?”

The title again. Prompto blushed, squirming where he sat. With a quit, embarrassed mumble of ”get me ready,” he stood up on his knees and spun around, backing until Gladio's arms stopped guiding him and stalled him instead. Prompto glanced over his shoulder, snapped a shot of Gladio kneading the flesh of his butt, and turned to Gladio's dick instead.

Maneuvering the camera around, he held it in one hand and leaned down until his chest hovered above Gladio's hips, his mouth near the dick curving up in full hardness. It took a bit of work – an elbow planted firmly on the blankets, a wrist pressed into a muscular thigh while his free hand grobed for the base of the cock before him – but somehow Prompto managed to settle down in a position that actually worked the way he inteded, the camera pointed down at him as he ghosted a breath over Gladio's weeping member. It wasn't the ideal angle for shooting pictures, yet Prompto had more than enough selfie experience under his belt to make it work, and so he set to work.

Keeping his eyes on the camera lense, Prompto leaned in until his lips touched the heated flesh. He took the first picture, but instead of opening his mouth and swallowing the dick the way he'd fairly recently learned to do, he pressed kisses up and down the shaft, only breaking his eye contact with the camera when he felt cold liquid being poured over his ass crack. His arm almost sore, Prompto flipped the camera over and brought it closer, frowning when he saw the shots; while Gladio set to work behind him, Prompto zoomed a little closer, then lifted the camera up, holding it at a lower height than before in hopes of cutting Gladio's head out of the pictures.

Prompto had never done or felt anything this arousing. He felt a weird disconnection from both Gladio and his own body, like he was watching other people having sex via the screen of a computer screen of even a TV switched to an adult channel. Though he could definitely feel the fingers expertly probing him open, touching him just the way he liked – Gladio had learned so fast how to hold him, love him – Prompto was too focused on the camera and the pictures to truly enjoy the drag of calloused fingers dipping in and out of his passage. There were sparks in his lower belly, and his entire crotch squeezed and spasmed in pleasure, but Prompto could not honestly say where his arousal was actually coming from, Gladio's hands or the dick in his mouth or the camera picturing it all, the performance he was putting for the photographer slightly separate from the person experiencing it all.

Eventually Prompto deemed himself both loose and tired enough and sat back up, turning around on his knees to return to his first position. ”Slick yourself up,” he murmured, staring at his camera rather than Gladio, though from the corner of his eye he saw a glistering hand reach behind his back. A moment later, when he lifted himself up and locked eyes with Gladio's, he felt a massive hardness being guided to his open hole, slick on slick making everything both easier and more difficult, but with Gladio's arm holding the dick in place Prompto soon found what he was looking for and sat down, a drawn-out moan leaving his lips as his hands flopped on the bed on both sides of his legs.

”Gods,” he groaned, ”gods, you're so big, Gladio–”

A sharp gasp cut off his words when he felt a jolt of pleasure in his guts, followed by the realization that he still wasn't fully bottomed out. Biting down on his lip, Prompto paused, glancing at the camera but knowing it was futile, that the angles were ruined and there was no way of getting a good shot of what he wanted to picture, and so he leaned forward to set the apparatus on his nightstand.

”Come on, babe, let's get the show on the road,” Gladio murmured, voice strained and almost pleading. Prompto gasped but didn't fight the hands on his hips, sticky but somehow drier than he'd expected – when or where Gladio had cleaned his hands, Prompto couldn't say, yet the question was as far from his thoughts as possible so he didn't even try to answer it. Very briefly, he wondered about having Gladio take the camera, but since Gladio's hands were sticky with the remnants of the massage oil, that wasn't about to happen; Prompto didn't want any of that getting on his precious camera, not even if rewarded with pictures of his ass being speared open on Gladio's dick.

”You're so _big_ ,” Prompto grunted, lifting up a fraction before inching down once more. Gladio had always been bordering on too big, too much, too deep, but they'd worked hard on loosening Prompto up, and it was finally beginning to pay off. Each slide down still ended with a brief sting of pain more often than not, and each glide up left Prompto feeling like his insides would fall out alongside Gladio's dick, but it was so worth it, so good, the best feeling in the world if he was being asked, and as Gladio's hands rose to cup Prompto's breasts, he could only cry out in sheer pleasure.

”Or maybe it's _you_ who's just too damn _tiny_ , babe,” Gladio murmured. He grabbed Prompto's nipples and rolled them between his massive fingers, causing liquid heat to flood Prompto's body as the nerve endings in his dick connected with those in his chest, leaving him panting under the onslaught of pleasure assaulting him. ”All the times you've had a dick in your little hole and you're still tight enough it feels like you're gonna take my dick with you.”

His words became more and more strained with each passing syllable, and Prompto – moaning loud enough his neighbors had to be listening in by now – took gleeful pride in being the one to make Gladio sound so tight and affected. Up and down, up and down, up and down he moved, gradually taking more of Gladio's dick inside of him, until his thighs burned and his lungs begged for air, until his cock wept and his nipples ached under Gladio's ministrations, and then – then he'd done it, taken all Gladio had to offer, but after the thrill of the sudden realization, the gradually lessening stretch simply wasn't enough anymore.

Planting his palms on Gladio's oiled chest, Prompto fought to find some sort of a support as he lifted his hips up before slamming down hard as he dare, not the entire lenght of Gladio's massive shaft but almost, then repeating the motion again and again in search of more of that delicious drag inside of him. Gladio was large enough to brush his prostrate more often than not, but it wasn't all Prompto was after.

”You feel so good!” he cried out, slamming down as far as there was to go. Gladio's hands on his chest were probably the only thing holding him properly up, his own hands sliding across the oil on Gladio's breasts, and with a desperate whine Prompto leaned back to plant his palms on Gladio's knees instead.

The change in position drew deep groans from both of them. Gladio brought his hands down to Prompto's hips, and Prompto attempted to raise himself up a couple times, but soon he gave up and focused on rolling his hips and clenching around the dick speared deep in his ass. Seated like this, Gladio was about as deep in as possible, and Prompto panted open-mouthed as the friction brought shivers down his spine. He was so full he could barely take it, yet at the same time, the feeling was something he'd never get enough of.

If he could, he'd spend the rest of his life filled to the brim, yet – human as he was, such a thing simply wasn't a possibility.

It didn't take long for Prompto to begin lagging behind, the position no longer enough to keep his desires sated. He wanted to feel more of Gladio inside of him, but no matter how hard he ground down, how many moans and groans he worked out of Gladio, the dick inside of him didn't grow any longer or thicker. Prompto squeezed with all his might and tried to push further down, but there was no give left and soon a strangled sound more like a scream than a cry tore from his lungs.

”You want more, baby?” Gladio groaned, hips thrusting up a fraction. Before Prompto could properly answer, he found the room tumbling upside down as Gladio flipped them over.

The next thing Prompto knew, he was on his back on the bed – though calling his position 'on his back' wasn't the whole truth, either, because it was only his head and shoulders digging deep into the mattress. His hips were high in the air, his own dick mere inches above his mouth, and as soon as he realized the implications of the position, Prompto found himself moaning despite the current lack of stimulation anywhere on his body.

He could barely see through the gap between his thighs, but Gladio braced one of Prompto's legs against a muscular chest still dripping with oil, then grabbed the other with one hand and held onto it while using his free hand to point his dick straight down Prompto's awaiting hole. Before he thrust in, Prompto had a split-second to imagine his hole – red and gaping from the abuse, glistening with massage oil – and the mere thought was enough to have him sobbing.

The new position meant that Gladio could use all the strenght in his body to rut into Prompto's open hole, and it showed. Within the space of the first, deep thrust, Prompto was a wailing mess, grasping at the sheets in desperation. Gladio's thrusts hit no deeper than he'd reached before the change in position, but he had force in his snappy movements, now, and the angle of his entrance had swifted as well. Prompto moaned, almost screaming, as Gladio slammed into him hard and fast.

”Y-y-y-you're gonna break me!” he wailed, barely noticing the droplets of precome dribbling onto his face, ”oh gods, Gladio, you're gonna kill me, you're gonna kill me, you're so big-oh-gods-Gladio-please–”

The rest of his words disappeared into broken groans and cries as Gladio continued to hammer into him. They were both close already, but Prompto's orgasm still took him by surprise, mostly because he ended up coming entirely untouched; the hot ropes of cum streaking across his face didn't even register in his mind at first, not until after he realized there was something slick spread across his left eye.

Gladio came a moment later. Prompto both heard and felt it, his ears catching illegible murmurs as hot come flooded his insides. For a moment, they remained as they were, panting to catch their breaths, but soon Prompto noticed a wide grin spreading across Gladio's face.

”Did you just come untouched?” he asked, his tone somewhere between playful and teasing. ”Holy shit, Prom, you should see your face.”

Still blinking up with only his right eye, Prompto felt his face heat up. Gladio moving to retreat had him moaning in disappointment, but the other didn't stop, carefully easing out of Prompto's ruined hole before lowering his legs on the bed.

”The neighbors probably called the cops on us,” Prompto murmured, distantly wishing for a plug when he felt the come leaking out of his hole. He rubbed a thumb across his eye, then a forefinger, carefully wiping at the rapidly cooling cum until he was able to open his eye once more. Seeing Gladio watching from his seat at the foot of the bed, Prompto hesitated only for a moment before bringing his fingers to his mouth.

”You could take me again, big guy,” he whispered. He spread his legs slightly, tried to show off his leaking hole, but to his disappointment Gladio simply shook his head with a faint smirk.

”Give it a minute, and I think you'll be more interested in sleep than more sex.” As he spoke, Gladio moved closer to Prompto, until he could carefully wipe the cum from his face. Prompto opened his mouth, feeling dirty and eager but so goddamn _golden,_ and reached his tongue out without Gladio even asking.

As he ate his own come from Gladio's fingers, Prompto reached for his hole, feeling the puffy, slick rim with his fingertips. He almost sobbed when he realized how open he was, the memory of Gladio throbbing deep inside his body almost enough to bring his own dick back to life. Moaning around Gladio's fingers, Prompto rolled over, revelling in the slick mess between his thighs – but as Gladio has said, exhaustion was quickly winning him over.

”I love your dick so fucking much, Glads,” he slurred. ”It's the best dick in the world.”

Gladio laughed, and even through the sleepy, warm, post-sex haze, the sound was enough to bring up Prompto's heart rate once more. ”Better not let Iggy or Noctis hear that, babe,” he teased, ”or you'll never hear the end of it.”

Groaning, Prompto rolled onto his stomach and snuggled his face into the pillows. The bed was a mess, anyways, and he'd need to have the sheets changed before bedtime no matter what, so he didn't really see the point of trying to keep the filth on his skin from rubbing off on the star-patterned fabric.

”You made me dirty,” Prompto whined, briefly thanking the gods that his chocobo sheets were currently sitting in the closet after being laundered, ”do something about it.”

”Oh? It's my problem now, is it?”

”Yeah, 'cuz you made me like this.”

Whatever Gladio's actual response was, Prompto didn't hear it. He felt a hand on his back, where it stayed for a moment before disappearing; the bed jostled when Gladio stood up, and the faint echo of his footsteps reached Prompto's ears a second later. He heard the bathroom door and the faucet, wondered if he should steel himself for a wet rag, but – his bones were boiled noodles and his muscles jello, and Prompto decided he didn't really want to think of anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @missymoth over at tumblr, at least for another while longer ;)


End file.
